


i know what it takes

by ambitioncutsusdown



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Dry Humping, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-24
Updated: 2015-05-24
Packaged: 2018-04-01 01:06:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4000144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ambitioncutsusdown/pseuds/ambitioncutsusdown
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He wants to prove Kavinsky wrong, wants to make him shut up for once. Just once.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i know what it takes

**Author's Note:**

> prev posted on [my tumblr](http://fuckboykavinsky.tumblr.com/post/119021030805/i-know-what-it-takes-ronan-x-gansey-1-8k), feel free to hmu if you have accepted ronangansey as your lord and savior

Of all the times to get stranded in the middle of nowhere, two AM is by far Ronan’s least favorite time. Maybe it’d be less annoying if this had been the first time, but Gansey’s car is breaking down every other week so this is just another one to add to the list.

He can hear Gansey mumbling something but doesn’t bother trying to figure out what it is.

“Jesus, Gansey, let’s just call Adam and get this over with.”

But Gansey is either ignoring him or not listening to him in the first place. He keeps trying to start the car, though he seems more and more impatient with every fail.

“Gansey.”

“It’s in the middle of the night. I’m not waking up Adam.”

Ronan rolls his eyes – it wouldn’t take Adam long to fix. He’s their friend, for fuck’s sake, and they need his help right now, or else they’ll be stuck here all night with nowhere to go and not a chance to get some sleep.

Not that he’d rather be asleep right now – not that he’d even be able to fall asleep, probably. It’s just that he’d rather be anywhere else than here with nothing to do.

“Then fix the damn thing.”

“What do you think I’m doing, Ronan?”

Ronan huffs but doesn’t say anything anymore, instead opens the door so he can climb out of the car. It’s chilly outside but not exactly cold. Summer hasn’t left completely yet.

By now Gansey’s popped the hood but Ronan doubts he knows what he’s doing. Adam may have taught him the basics, but the Pig is old and minutes away from falling apart, and it’s dark as hell outside so really, what are the changes Gansey magically knows how to fix the car?

They’ll be stuck here until morning, when they can call someone, or until someone passes by to help them out.

As if someone heard him, a car stops behind Gansey’s only seconds later.

Ronan is ready to demand whoever it is to take them home, but then he recognizes the car and quietly curses instead.

There’s only one person who drives a white Mitsubishi.

And indeed, next comes the teasing drawl of Kavinsky’s voice.

“Lynch. Dick.”

Ronan can almost hear the smirk on Kavinsky’s lips.

Gansey is next to him in a flash, torn between protecting Ronan from Kavinsky, and stopping Ronan before he’ll do something stupid. Whichever will happen first.

“What a nice surprise to find both of you out here. Needed a place to be alone, huh?”

Ronan grits his teeth. His not going to give Kavinsky the satisfaction of replying to that.

“You care to give us a ride?” he asks instead. He feels like he already knows the answer, but it’s worth a shot.

Maybe Kavinsky would’ve given Ronan a ride if he’s been alone – it wouldn’t have been pleasant, but at least he would’ve gotten home. But with Gansey there as well… not a chance. Kavinsky can’t stand him. He’d rather run him over, Ronan suspects.

“And break off your date?” Kavinsky replies with a grin that’s part dangerous and part amused. “Not a chance.”

So that’s that. Kavinsky’s not going to do anything, maybe just watch them before he takes off again, ready to do whatever it is he does when he’s awake in the middle of the night.

And unless Ronan can make Gansey change his mind, they’ll be out here until morning.

Great.

“Hey, Dick. He sucked your dick yet? Or are you waiting until you’re married?”

“Shut up, K.”

So maybe Ronan isn’t the best at ignoring Kavinsky, who’s going to blame him. It just gets so _tiring_ listening to him, and Ronan is struck with the idea that he wants to prove him _wrong_.

He wants to prove Kavinsky wrong, wants to make him shut up for once. Just once.

And then he thinks that maybe ignoring Kavinsky isn’t really the best way to do that – like someone ever could do that – and telling him he’s wrong isn’t working either, denying it will just make Kavinsky grin wider, make him all that more dangerous.

No, the best way to make Kavinsky shut up, is to do something he won’t expect. Something that’ll catch him off guard, leave him so speechless he’ll just take off and let them be.

There’s only one thing Ronan can do.

So he turns his head, faces Gansey who’s still standing next to him as a human shield, and tangles one hand in the collar of his shirt to tug him closer.

Their lips meet almost effortlessly, and for a fraction of a second Ronan remembers he never really stopped to ask what Gansey thought of this plan, and there’s a fair chance Gansey will push him away with a _what the fuck Ronan_ that’ll just make Kavinsky smirk like he won the lottery. But none of that happens; instead Gansey returns his kiss without doing so much as blinking.

Ronan feels Gansey lick over the inseam of his lips and he’s parting them, granting Gansey access, and they’re just… doing that. Kissing each other slowly, tongues tangled together and exploring, doing something they’ve never even thought of before.

And Ronan’s getting into it more than he ever thought he would. It’s nice, he thinks, kissing Gansey. Although _nice_ might not be the best word.

Kissing Gansey is a lot of things. Unexpected, strange, weirdly thrilling. He feels jittery and on fire, fingers hooked in Gansey’s shirt to hold him close.

He snaps out of whatever daze he’s in when he hears the roar of Kavinsky’s car. It’s not enough to make him stop kissing Gansey, but when Kavinsky drives past them, seemingly going from zero to maximum speed on 0.5 seconds, Ronan can’t help but laugh into their kiss.

He leans away and looks at Gansey, a feeling of excitement settling in his stomach, together with the rush of adrenaline he usually associates with racing.

“He totally got owned, man.”

“What the fuck, Ronan?”

So there’s the original reply he was expecting. Ronan figures he had it coming.

He shrugs and clears his throat. “Relax, dude. S’just Kavinsky.”

“So you only did it because of Kavinsky?”

There’s something to Gansey’s voice that Ronan can’t really place, which is strange because he always thought he had Gansey completely figured out by now.

It’s half defensive and half curious and a little bit, sad, maybe? Is sad an option?

Ronan tries to imagine things the other way around: Gansey kissing him to get back at Kavinsky, and he finds out that yeah, sad might be an option.

Huh.

“Maybe not,” he finally replies. “Maybe I also did it because of you.”

“Because of me?”

“Yeah…” Ronan frowns. “’Cause you’re you, you know? Fuck, whatever. Does it matter?”

Gansey thinks about his answer before giving it to Ronan. “Maybe. It matters if you want to do it again.”

This isn’t exactly what he’d expected to happen, not at any point in his life. No matter what, he never would have guessed at some point in his life he would be having the _do you want to kiss me again_ conversation with Gansey.

Life’s a fucking _joke_ , man.

Though still he replies with, “I think so,” carefully watching Gansey’s reaction, which is a soft huff of breath, a nod, and then Gansey’s lips on him again, this time firmer and more demanding and less careful and less slow and Ronan finds himself leaning into it.

They’re pressed flush together within seconds, like this is something they’ve been craving forever and neither of them can control themselves any longer, even though Gansey seems perfectly in control when he kisses Ronan, completely aware of what he’s doing and what’s going on. It’s hotter than Ronan would have guessed.

But then they break apart again, mostly for air, and Ronan can see the darkness in Gansey’s eyes. He can feel the nervous twitches of his fingers, and if he’s not mistaken, he can even make out Gansey’s uneven heartbeat.

If he’s being completely honest, seeing Gansey halfway freaking out and being wrecked, it’s almost just as hot. Maybe even hotter, he isn’t sure yet.

Still it stirs something inside of him, something that makes his veins feel like they’re on fire.

And maybe he’s mistaken, but… “You hard?” he mumbles, breath hitting Gansey’s lips and making him gasp.

Ronan almost smirks.

“Maybe. Yes,” is what Gansey replies with. His voice is firmer than Ronan expected it to be. So he’s not really scared, just nervous, maybe. Excited. Like Ronan himself is.

Ronan smirks and leans in to kiss Gansey again, but also makes sure to grind his hips forward, and there’s no way to miss it this time – the way Gansey’s hard in his jeans, probably straining against the fabric. The motion of his hips earns him a breathe moan, and just like that, Ronan is addicted.

Addicted to feeling Gansey, to hearing the sounds he’s making, to kissing him and feeling him, and there’s no way he can stop this.

They kiss forever and ever and ever, grinding their hips together. Tentative at first, careful and unsure, but then harder and harder as time goes on and they get more and more desperate, chasing an orgasm that’s _right there_ but _not quite_.

“Gansey, come on,” Ronan whispers, thrusting hard against Gansey.

As if spurred on by Ronan’s words, Gansey quickens his movements, hands slipping down to Ronan’s ass so he can tug him closer, take more control of their movements, and it’s so good Ronan can feel his eyes roll back into his skull. He moans when he comes, he thinks it’s Gansey’s name, but to be honest he’s not entirely sure. It’s kind of hard to concentrate on what you’re saying when your mind blanks and you’re coming your brains it.

Whether is the sight of Ronan coming or the sound of his name moaned by Ronan or just the pressure that’s been building forever, Gansey follows right after, going strangely quiet through his orgasm. He lets out a breathy whine and that’s it, but he’s trembling through it and needs Ronan to hold him up until his legs function again and he can stand on his own.

“Fuck,” Gansey mumbles once he can breathe again.

“Not quite. I believe it’s called dryhumping. Fucking involves—”

“ _Please_ shut up and let me bask in this for a moment, Ronan.”

Ronan grins but doesn’t say anything anymore, just settles for running his fingers through Gansey’s hair, almost petting it though he would never admit that.

Finally, minutes later, Gansey clears his throat. “Let’s get back now.”

And Ronan half expects him to turn around and fix his clothes and put on his Gansey-façade so they can both pretend this hasn’t happened, but  Gansey doesn’t do that. He just takes Ronan’s hand and walks him back to the car, helps him get in and then walks to the other side, sitting behind the steering wheel.

“You think it will start again?”

Gansey smiles. “I know it will.”

He turns the keys and the Pig roars to life – Ronan rolls his eyes in exasperation, and Gansey laughs as they take off, ready to go home.

 


End file.
